Holding Your Liquor
by ixchelmala
Summary: Nancy's Malfoy P.I. finishes up business with one of his associates when he gets an unexpected visitor. Told from a third person's own POV.


Title: Holding Your Liquor Author: ixchelmala Pairing: H/D Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. They belong to J.K.R. This story is based in Nancy's Malfoy P.I.'s universe. Summary: Malfoy's finishes up business with one of his associates when he gets an unexpected visitor. Told from a third person's own POV. Category: AU(Malfoy P.I.), angst. Author Notes: Nancy's Malfoy P.I. has me looking at L.A. from a different point of view almost anytime I get into my car and drive around. In this city, that's saying quite a bit, since most don't see past a few cars ahead in the fast lane. Thanks for the company Friday night Nancy. This story is for all your trouble.  
  
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Potter couldn't hold his liquor.  
  
I stopped at Malfoy's place to go over some files of Downtown, reconnaissance shots mostly, when his current client stopped by, unannounced.  
  
It was Potter. Apparently he was in a state... and Malfoy noticed it off the bat and offered him a stiff drink.  
  
Now, in my work, with this client, I've noticed that he never drinks when he's emotionally affected, but then again, most of my observations are though the lens, not the naked eye.  
  
I moved to leave and Malfoy waved at me to stay on. Apparently he wanted to finish up with the last set of proofs.  
  
I wanted to give them privacy, as I know Malfoy seems to have a special interest in this client, probably the money, but hey, what do I know? I just push the button on my box, show him the results, and get paid for what he can use.  
  
Take a picture you say?  
  
Heh, yeah, right. Strict rule with this Dick, no shots taken in his presence nor when he's with the client, unless explicitly instructed to.  
  
Yeah yeah I know, what you're thinking... and I *do* have some shots stashed away, for safe keeping, but I'm not an idiot. Taking out my box here would amount to suicide. Besides, this client of his has been by far the most entertaining of his yet. Well as far as photographing goes.  
  
I'm not sure what Malfoy sees in this guy, beside the hefty paycheck and perhaps challenge of working on an impossible case. Then again, that's Malfoy.  
  
So Potter sits on the couch, on the other side of me. He's brow is furrowed slightly, but then relaxed when Malfoy returns with his drink.  
  
Odd, I didn't know Malfoy had anything other than Vodka here. Not that he offers me any more. (See I don't drink on the job, fucks with the focus you know? Besides, vodka is deathly to my system.)  
  
Potter accepts his drink and just like that his furrowed brow melts away with a small professional smile, that's when my eye catches their fingers having touched, just when the green colored glass was passed off.  
  
He took a swig and settled back into the cushion of the couch, closed his eyes for a few moments.  
  
Malfoy had disappeared back into his kitchen for his drink and was talking to Marlowe. I don't see him often anymore. Just as well. As much as he keeps my feet warm, he does make me sneeze.  
  
I went back to pulling out the last shots I had to go over with Malfoy, when apparently I pulled Potter's attention as well.  
  
"You take those?" Potter asked.  
  
I nodded, without looking at him. Again, I'm here doing business with Malfoy. Unless, I get the green from him, I'm not gone fuck this job up by flapping my yap with his client.  
  
Potter didn't seem offended at my lack of speech. He just kept looking on, at a distance.  
  
I looked down at his drink and I know my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. It was half gone.  
  
Malfoy came back into the room and he must have plainly seen what I had, but to his credit, or maybe he's going soft, he didn't say a word. He sat in the cushioned chair at the end of the coffee table, nearest me, setting his drink next to my last set of proofs.  
  
Yeah, I know, he shouldn't set his drink near my work, but Malfoy has a steady hand, which is more than I can say for this Potter fellow.  
  
I got through two more shots with Malfoy, as Potter looked on, gulped and made "hm" and "Oh" noises, before Malfoy stood up again offering Potter a second drink.  
  
Apparently Malfoy thought this guy could hold his liquor. Or Potter doesn't drink as hard of stuff as Malfoy was giving him.  
  
How wrong Malfoy was going to be on this one.  
  
To Potter's credit... he held it for a while and took off his suit jacket as the alcohol relaxed him. Something seemed to be on his mind, and Malfoy was doing his best to ease his troubles the best way he knew how.  
  
He looked up and said to him, as if it was some code, "Whatever it is, Potter, forget it and drink."  
  
I spent the next 30 minutes getting the ok on the last set of shots. Potter went though two more drinks of what turned out to be black rum and coke.  
  
Malfoy? His usual and steady as ever.  
  
Then when I was packing my things to go, that's when all hell broke loose, well for Potter anyways.  
  
I looked over at him, as Malfoy's attention pulled my eye. (I mean honestly, how do you think I work? I go with what draws peoples eyes, and well there's a reason Malfoy is a good PI, why I work for him. He's not only my best client, he's got an excellent eye for observation. Especially when he's deeply involved in a case.)  
  
So I look over and Potter looks to have turned a shade of green that would make the Wiltern look alive.  
  
I knew where this was going, so I swiftly move all my proofs and shots away from him, to give him space you see... no, I'm not an idiot. But I'll be damned if I'm going to let some lightweight get sick all over my work.  
  
Besides, he needed air.  
  
"Where's your bathroom?" He asked.  
  
This was directed at Malfoy of course. He pointed and seeing the situation, he motioned for me to stay put and followed Potter into the hallway.  
  
From there, I could see everything framed beautifully.  
  
I take still shots, but moving pictures are harder. I wouldn't have enough film for that, and well, I'd have too many 'moments' to capture. I think I'd be so obsessed to capture every single one.  
  
But what played out in front of me would have been worthy of that.  
  
Best part was, Malfoy seemed to have forgotten I was there.  
  
Well he didn't.  
  
But he knew I valued my job, and my work speaks for me, not my yap.  
  
Now, as on past occasions, Malfoy offered me couch space if a proof session went long and I wasn't able to make the 1 a.m. curfew at the weekly I was staying at in Venice. They didn't like to deal with the 2 a.m. drunk rush, so management figured an hour before that would cut down on the hassles of that mess.  
  
Malfoy always gave me ride, since it lets saves me the 2 hour bus ride back. It gave us more time to go over my work and the ride back was always different, as he seemed just as obsessed with L.A. as I was. And every ride gave me a chance to scout new place for shots begging to be revealed on film.  
  
Sometimes I think Malfoy knew this and indulged me with the, sometimes rather long ride home. He never took the freeways. Just as well. Besides he had signal karma.  
  
So, Potter made it to the bathroom, and you could hear the familiar retching that comes with alcohol poisoning. Whatever he ate earlier that night wasn't agreeing with his spirits.  
  
He stumbled in his last steps to the bathroom. He didn't quite make it. Malfoy, grabbed some towels from the closet and then kept a distance. Close enough to help out incase Potter needed any further help aiming.  
  
Then Malfoy stepped closer, and that's when the shot was framed perfectly, had I my box with me. (Well I did, but might as well haven't, because of Malfoys' ground rules.)  
  
Potter looked awful, apparently clueless to how much he drank and what was ailing him that night.  
  
Malfoy was at his side, cleaning him up. His back was at an angle to me, when I saw him lean close and brush his lips on Potter's temple. He brushed his hair back and was speaking in hushed tones. Probably giving him a piece of his mind when it came to holding his liquor. Then his hand moved to the sick man's back as he rubbed it between his shoulder blades.  
  
Yeah, he's into guys too. What of it? Show me someone who doesn't like a thing of beauty or fascination? Yeah, I thought so. I take pictures of things like that. Others show their interest differently. Besides, why do you think I took this job? Do you think I'm so blind as to pass up an opportunity to photograph the well known Harry Potter? Yeah, I'm obssesed, but Malfoy said his client had consented as long as I followed the rules.  
  
Mafloy's hand kept rubbing in light circles on Potter's when the next wave of retching came. Malfoy guided him. He knew what was coming. This was going to be a long night.  
  
Potter's head hung at the edge of the porcelain bowl, his arms bracing his body against the tank, Malfoy held his shoulders steady. When he was finally done, he just hung there like a rag doll. Malfoy pulled his back into his chest, then wiped his face. He seemed to notice the soiled shirt about the same time I did. I'm not sure how, save for experience in these matters. He worked at the buttons without needing to shift Potter and he was speaking in hushed tones to his client. I could see Potter's body physically relax as he slid the shirt off, leaving the white wifebeater on him.  
  
"Creevey" Malfoy called.  
  
I was up and half way to the bathroom before he needed to call again.  
  
The stench from the bowl almost made me wretch. My employer pointed to the towel he'd brought in and had me wet a second one. As I turned with the second I was able to take everything in from a new angle.  
  
Malfoy was cradling Potter's head and assuring him that he was an idiot for not being able to hold his liquor. His tone was serious, but his fingers betrayed any anger his voice carried as he combed the black mess from his client's forehead protectively.  
  
I stood back as Malfoy helped lift Potter to take him out.  
  
I busied myself picking up the mess in the bathroom. Last thing I wanted was to have this smell to deal with, in case I had to use the jon in the middle of the night.  
  
When I came back out, Potter was sitting in the kitchen. I brought Malfoy the last dry towel and another moist one then returned to the couch, but sat in Potter's spot, as it afforded me a view of the two men in the kitchen.  
  
Malfoy kept sporadically talking in hushed tones to his client. Finally Potter sipped the water he was being helped with. He held the glass as if his life depended on it, his fingers wrapped over Malfoy's. Something passed over his face and he let out a small sigh as his body relaxed and slumped into the table further.  
  
Malfoy dipped his head closer to Potter's ear and caught my eye watching them. He must have said something as I saw Potter nod his head slightly letting Malfoy's fingers go from the glass.  
  
The blond moved away from Potter and I tried to busy myself with my files.  
  
I saw the polished shoes next to the coffee table and I looked up before he started to speak.  
  
"You can make curfew with a cab." With that Malfoy handed me $60.  
  
I looked at his client in the kitchen then up at him and nodded professionally.  
  
I gathered my things.  
  
Malfoy had turned back to the kitchen. Back to his client, who was looking up at him still looking wretched.  
  
I slid my coat on, gathered my things and made for the door. I figured I'd use the pay phone down the street. No need to further my unwanted stay.  
  
I looked back on the flat and saw Malfoy helping Potter through the hallway past the bathroom. There was only one other room in that flat I'd never see. I guess Potter was going to see it tonight.  
  
Poor guy. Still, he can't hold his liquor though. Too bad really.  
  
I shut the door behind me and thought about how I was going to miss the couch and Marlowe. Even if he did make me sneeze. 


End file.
